


The Progression of Life in Ningbo

by papaversomni



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papaversomni/pseuds/papaversomni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The vows were a dreadful affair. Replaced by a piano piece that sounded suspiciously like a dirge, the organs had faded out, and the priest looked ready to keel over. Draco half expected that the next procession to grace this aisle would his funeral."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Progression of Life in Ningbo

**Author's Note:**

> Mandatory Disclaimer: As much as I’d like to be a British millionaire, I’m American and have the income expected of a rising junior...woops. Unfortunately (or fortunately), all rights got to J.K. Rowling, and my prized possessions will continue to be plants named after historical figures *chokes* I hope this is alright!

The Progression of Life in Ningbo

 

                She had never been beautiful. Draco reminded himself of his as he watched her glide up the aisle. Her veil and broad smile did nothing to hide her buck teeth, and he felt a surge of pride. He wanted to run his hands through the neatly tamed curls, feeling the silkiness escape as the frizz set in and she became the same old Granger. Whoever the stylist was deserved to be lynched.

  
☂

 

                The vows were a dreadful affair. Replaced by a piano piece that sounded suspiciously like a dirge, the organs had faded out, and the priest looked ready to keel over. Draco half expected that the next procession to grace this aisle would be for his funeral. If he’d had _his_ way, he would’ve dealt away with all of this and simply filed for registration. He hadn’t, though, so he was stuck with this mess.

 

☂ 

 

                Granger’s trust had taken more than anything his wallet could offer. He’d seen it in her refusal to wear short sleeves and heard it in her nightmares as she fell asleep at their office. He knew, more than anyone, what it had taken her to get this far. Seeing her reveal herself in front of all these people twisted his stomach into knots. The veil shifted to display her arms, and his breath hitched. What if they frowned? What if they whispered?

 

                Draco couldn’t help but be worried, but then her eyes caught his and she smiled. Merlin. Her smile. Like that, his heart resumed beating. She was going to be alright. He had to remind himself that no one in this audience was like his former crowd, but when he did, he felt at ease. She’d worked too hard, was too determined to make things work not to be confident. What they thought of her, even what they thought of _him_ was of no consequence. This was her day.

 

☂

 

                Watching the ladies clamor for Hermione’s bouquet nearly made him sneer. Even though he cared about her, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the desire for such a ceremony. The redhead and kitchen pan were being mercifully civil, however, and he smirked before giving them a small wave. Perhaps the extravagant nature of the event had kept their usually dubious manners under wrap, but Draco had to give the frizz ball some credit.

 

☂

 

                There was nothing worse than an overly emotional speech being the prime obstacle between Draco and his food. He swallowed his pride at the maroon and gold chairs, but one more blatherskite and he’d be forced to commit murder. Thankfully, the kitchen pan finally sat down. As he was about to turn to a bread roll, however, the freckled Weasley-Potter-redhead-woman thing stood up. Draco let out an unapologetically loud groan.  

☂

 

                Draco Malfoy wasn’t one for pain. Draco Malfoy wasn’t one for pain, _unless_ it involved her — then he was a glutton for punishment. He couldn’t help it, really. She was just so enchanting. The dress fit oddly and he could swear she had slipped into trainers some time before the reception, but her face was radiating the infectious sort of happiness that had him chuckling to himself. He was going completely bonkers. Call the press, Draco Bleeding Malfoy was giggling like a schoolgirl at Christmas. Not even the nature of the celebration had gotten her to stop advocating for S.P.E.W. and he stifled his smile with another bread roll. He was completely bonkers. He was in love.

 

                Then she rose for the first dance. As she rose, he found himself moving to get up as well, but paused midway. A foul taste filled his mouth. No one noticed, thankfully, as they were all focused on the man who did get up. A man with flaming red hair and a smile equally as crooked as Granger’s ears. Draco slunk back into his chair. The smile disappeared from his face as he stared down into his wine glass. That’s right. He couldn’t keep calling her ‘Granger’ anymore, could he? He wanted to stand up and shout it over and over again until he grew sick of the sound and didn’t care anymore. Granger, Granger, Granger. Granger. Gran…ger.

 

Hermione Granger.

               

                His lips formed the syllables, but no sound came out. No sound came out, just like the night she had flooed him the news. He had smiled then, too. Gone through the motions.

 

                Draco downed his glass of wine and raised his eyes to the dance floor. That ridiculous redhead was baltering across the floor while she laughed, and he felt the bitterness recede. She was happy. He let his gaze linger for a second longer before setting his napkin on the table. As he slung on his jacket, he let a smile grace his lips. She had never been _beautiful_. She was stunning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry ahhh, this is my first time and I wanted to do an angsty one-shot before working on a slightly happier (and MUCH longer) dramione piece.


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